A Different Kind of War
by Sheila51
Summary: It was a new age. It was the end of history. It was the year everything changed. The year is 2261. The place, Babylon 5. "That's what makes this war different from anything we have ever gone through before. This time we know everyone we kill"
1. Prologue: Worth Dying for

**A Different kind of War**

A/N: This is supposed to be set between 'Epiphanies' and 'The Illusion of Truth'. And then continuing through Season 4 to the end. Most stories from season four will have very few changes, some will be very changed. The first part of this story will take several chapters, I will tell you at the end of each 'Episode'.

Disclaimer: Great Maker owns. I'm in the sandbox again. Please don't sue me if I take a few liberties with the story…

_Look into my eyes - you will see  
What you mean to me  
Search your heart - search your soul  
And when you find me there you'll search no more  
Don't tell me it's not worth trying for  
You can't tell me it's not worth dying for  
You know it's true  
Everything I do - I do it for you  
  
_

**Worth Dying For:**

            She fiddled with a small piece of circuitry. It was part of a communications relay that she had busted the day before. She sighed and ran a hand through her dark curls. She was so tired it wasn't funny. Between ducking EarthForce, PciCops and the Resistance, Mars was quickly becoming a trap she was unlikely to get out of alive.

She squeezed her eyes shut as the circuitry slipped out of focus. When she opened them a slight headache had started behind her ears. PsiCops… Several PsiCops doing a low scan to pick up surface thoughts. She pulled everything in, hiding behind the barriers her mind erected as she'd been taught.

After a moment the pressure was gone, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She continued rewiring the small board though now with more haste. For them to be that strong they were either close, not a pleasant thought, or there were more of them since the last attempt to find her. Her small fingers and the piece of scrap metal quickly working on the piece of circuitry.

A piercing scream rent through her mind. Throwing up her barriers she clasped her head in her hands and bent until she was in a tiny ball, it faded. The Shadow scream faded away. She body shook, her already pale face white with fear, her eyes wide and fearful. Slowly she pulled herself upright and made a few more adjustments to the tiny circuit board.

She quickly slipped it into the jimmied relay she had put together from various bits and pieces. Her hair bands were even holding bits of it together.

She typed in a code. A light went off showing her signal was past the Jammers, and direct feeding to another location, she let a breath she hadn't known she was holding out slowly..

"Little star to white queen. Darkness follows, shadows hidden on marshmallows" a stray thought popped into her head, Marcus was definitely insane, she glanced away, something or someone was near. "Nazis have found me, repeat the Nazis have found me, will attempt return to Camelot, repeat will attempt return to Camelot. Repeat Shadows on Marshmallows, Shadows on marshmallows." She cursed as she switched off the pieced together machine. The timer she'd built in showed fifty-three second, seven seconds to many. With a quick blow of her extended pike she smashed the small array.

She ran out of the room and stopped, fear causing her throat to close and her limbs to freeze. They had found her. Two black clothed 'nazis' were standing in front of her, their badges gleaming, bare hands raised towards her. She tried to push up defences, but was too slow. A terrible pain filled her entire body. She screamed as she went to her knees.

Through the pain she heard someone speak, in her mind, she felt others surround her. "Thirteen will be pleased. Begin interrogation immediately, anything to break her. But don't kill her." She slumped as hands reached for her, and fingers slipped into her mind, but one part of her, the part where her mission was kept, her identity, her person was kept safe, locked away behind a special wall in her mind. Information worth dying for locked behind a wall that would break bit by bit.

Sheridan examined a report on the defence-grid with little real enthusiasm. He was almost glad at Ivanova's interruption.

"Captain?" he looked up. "We've intercepted a transmission from behind the Jammers sir. It's a point to point signal being taken somewhere on the station." He leaned forwards, Damn the bloody spy's! he thought as his mind ran over several things at once.

"Is it finished?" She nodded. "Let me see it," she nodded again. He switched it on. It was weak, but a pretty face framed by dark curls appeared. A hand touched a curl, brushing it from her face, something flickered briefly, blue, green and silver on her sleeve.  John's mouth opened slightly, a frown stiching his forehead.

"Little star to white queen. Darkness follows, shadows hidden on marshmallows" Sheridan's eyebrows shot up as she glanced. "Nazis have found me, repeat the Nazis have found me," he glanced at Ivanova, if it was code it was very strange code "will attempt return to Camelot, repeat will attempt return to Camelot. Repeat Shadows on Marshmellows, Shadows on marshmallows." The transmission faded to static, before returning and playing again.

"what do you want to do about it" she paused a moment "John?" she asked as he paused the image, The girl in the message was turned away, a trace of fear evident in her features.  He turned to her as Delenn and Marcus stepped through the door.

"I think," he said with a glance at them, as he stood "Our explanation has arrived Susan." He said as he stepped around her to greet the two arrivals.

"John," Said Delenn, her tone serious and clearly worried, "We must speak to you immediately." Sheridan looked over at Susan with a slight smirk. She was distinctly annoyed looking, she shot him a glare. His hunches were so annoying. Marcus turned and left with a slight growl just below hearing, John thought it might be a curse, Marcus seemed on edge, thought John as the group left quickly.

That last bit was a tad bit shaky, I might change that later. Please review, Even if you thought it totally terrible and absolutely awful!

Thanks!


	2. Prologue

**_  
_****_It was the year of fire,   
The year of destruction,   
The year we took back what was ours.   
It was the year of rebirth,   
The year of great sadness,   
The year of pain,   
And a year of joy.   
It was a new age.   
It was the end of history.   
It was the year everything changed.   
The year is 2261.   
The place, Babylon 5._**

****


	3. Take me as I am take my life, I would g...

**A Different Kind of War:**

A/N: Part 2 of first 'episode'. Rated R for violence, torture and non explicit rape, but only this chapter, the rest is still rated PG-13. This is a bit dark a bit too dark for B5 but still that's why it's called artistic licence.

Disclaimer: on chapter 1.

_Look into my heart - you will find  
There's nothin' there to hide  
Take me as I am - take my life,  
I would give it all, I would sacrifice  
Don't tell me it's not worth fighting' for  
I can't help it there's nothin' I want more  
Ya know it's true  
Everything I do - I do it for you___

**Take me as I am – Take my Life, I would give it all, I would sacrifice:**

Something thudded against her back. The whip, she reminded herself. Fresh pain made her sigh. She looked up and met the gaze of a female PsiCop across the room. The PsiCop was smiling slightly. And she knew why. The wall was beginning to break.

Another thud against her back, unconsciously her head ripped up and away from the PsiCops gaze, her mouth opened in a silent scream. Before she slumped back down, hanging from the manacles around her wrists, without will or energy to hold herself up. Her breaths were ragged, but the wall, the all important wall around her thoughts was still in place, slowly cracking, but still in place.

"Enough." Said the PsiCops cold, hard voice. They undid the ties the bound her. She dropped to the floor, curling into a fetal position as soon as they had left. Sleep beckoned but she had work to do before she could sleep. Carefully she pulled all her defensive walls up, it took so long to do it, her back was agony at the slightest movement and the general cuts and bruises and quite possibly broken ribs all protested her conscious thought.

How easy it would be to just surrender, to volunteer to tell them everything, to let down all her walls and let them find what they wanted. She shivered. It was always to cold in the cell, and her naked body always shivered. Her back was warm though, warm from blood that leaked from the repeated abuses. A cut on her lip and another on her nose, it was possibly broken. Using her injuries she re-built the walls around her mind.

Her memories of kindness, of friends, of those she cared for were mortar to fill any cracks. She shuddered as the defenses were finally back in place. It was so cold. Yet her memories, her defenses protected her, so when she did sleep she was safe, and the cold was kept at bay. She shivered again as the small slit in the door opened. She felt a stray thought from the guard outside.

_Whore._

She shivered as she met a pair of eyes, cold, ugly eyes darkened with lust. Oh Valen, she thought as the door opened, there were four or five of them. She stood and backed away as they came, new strength surging through her. The sleepers they gave her were wearing off, he had come, told to give them too her, she could feel their thoughts. Carnal lust, dark and horrible tainted their thoughts. Her back touched the wall; she barely felt the pain through what she felt from the men approaching her.

She launched herself at the first one, a satisfying crunch accompanying the fist that struck his nose, but her strength was gone, she stumbled and they were on her, like wolves.

"Oh Valen!" she cried as she was slammed into the ground on her face, the side of her head hit the metal, making any more struggling futile, though groggily she tried.

And tried again, scratching, clawing hitting futile. Crying out over and over again accompanied by her tears, and their palms hitting her, to make her stop…

Long after they had left the tears still came, unabated and unstoppable. She curled into a ball again, Desperate to escape, escape the pain, which was now inside rather than out, escape the fear, what if they came back...

Just escape. "Oh Valen…" she whispered. "Oh Marcus help me…" she whispered between small sobs. As she pulled herself deeper inside her private little space, the walls building ever higher around her, locking her inside her own mind, leaving her with her memories, not of friends, but of what had just happened. "Oh Valen…" she whispered.

Her eyes closing, her sleep filled with darkness and despair driving her ever deeper within her own mind, into a dark place.

Marcus was sleeping when he woke. He felt something inside him, a desperate presence, and then they were ripped away. He shook his head, but before he could gather the scattered image of his dream, they were back. He gripped his head as someone called his name again and again.

He suddenly recognized the voice in his head.  "Natasha!" he shouted, bolting out of bed he stood shaking, phantom pain was griping him, slashing his back, burning along his left ribs, his nose, lips, the side of his head, his legs… He fell to the floor as the pain assaulted him, and tiredness, so tired so much hut...

And something else, a violation, tears ran from his eyes into his beard as he felt the indescribable pain run through him. And then it retreated… fading away to leave him sobbing on the floor, he slowly curled himself into a small ball on the floor, hugging himself and sobbing.

John looked over when Marcus entered his office. Dark hollows were under his eyes and the haunted expression he'd worn for the last four days since Natalia Miyatskya had sent that message. She would have sent another within two days if she were not captured, which it seemed very likely that she had. John sighed at the look on Marcus' face. It bespoke of a night without sleep.

"Marcus," he said as the ranger bowed slightly. "The ship will leave here in three hours, I'm surprised you're not waiting to leap aboard.

"I would but I had to see you." Came the reply in a hoarse voice. He sounded and looked as though he had spent the night screaming and crying, his red nose and puffy eyes. John nodded slowly and motioned that he sit.

"Delenn said…" he began and stopped. "The file we showed you on Natasha," he bean again. "Was incomplete."

"Incomplete how?" asked john with a frown. Marcus took a deep breath.

"She was born in St. Petersburg, her parents were archaeologists, and they did die when they accidentally woke a shadow ship. And yes she was a latent Telepath." He paused and swallowed. "Something woke her Telepathy when her parents were killed." John sat back, he let a breath out and counted to ten.

"How strong?" he asked at the unspoken words in Marcus' voice.

"Very." Said Marcus meeting his eyes, guiltily they shifted away. "She could find you at distance, she could reach out and talk to you." Eyes filled with guilt lifted to meet his. "That's the reason I sent her." A sad smile came over his face. She could reach across space and touch you…" a slight touch of wonder came into his voice. He looked away. "She was trapped once. A tree fell on her in a storm during a training mission. I was here on Babylon 5 and I felt her pain all the way from Member, like another person in your head, another person's pain…" John frowned. He'd never heard of anything like it.

"How…" he began but a sharp shake of Marcus' head stopped him. "No-one knows. The Minbari telepaths figured she could broadcast strong emotion over incredible distances, but only when she's asleep." John nodded.

"And she's contacted you, is that it?" he asked Marcus. Marcus' nodded sharply. Marcus' eyes flitted away and focused on the ground, tears welling up. He took a shuddering breath.

"And?" asked John softly.

"They're torturing her…" he said it so softly, so harshly it made Sheridan pull back from where he'd been leaning towards Marcus. "They'll kill her soon" he looked up. John stood and walked to the window over the garden. First the war, then Garibaldi, now this. Delenn had sent a Ranger to make sure they had forewarning of an attack. He felt his jaw fasten hard. He unclenched it and cleared his throat softly; he could feel Marcus' eyes.

"Are we too late?" he asked softly. Marcus' stirred behind him; he turned to find the lanky ranger standing rather than sitting.

"Not her body captain, her soul, who she is." He took a deep breath. They looked at each other. John noticed, red mark on Marcus' nose and high on his head, it looked like he'd been beaten. Marcus pressed a hand to the mark on his forehead. "She gave me some of her pain Captain… That's what the Minbari think." He paused. "When she reaches out to you a little of her injury passes to you…"John saw as he turned away that Marcus flinched as though struck.

Marcus flinched as he turned away. He held his breath. On Mars the torture had begun again. Blood dripped from his nose.


	4. Don’t tell me it’s not worth fighting fo...

**A different kind of War ** _Look into my heart - you will find There's nothing there to hide Take me as I am - take my life I would give it all I would sacrifice Don't tell me it's not worth fighting for I can't help it there's nothing I want more You know it's true Everything I do - I do it for you… _

****

Don't tell me it's not worth fighting for

They'd dressed her. Or rather a new PsiCop had. She was younger, pretty a detached part of Natasha's mind told her. It had been two days, if she hadn't lost her sense of time. Two nights since they'd…

She jerked at a hand on her arm. Another new PsiCop was putting manacles n her. He had a cold face. Cold eyes. He took her arm and pulled her with him. The female PsiCop helped hold her up. The took her outside of the cold cell with it's dark red patches. She shivered. She felt as weak as a new born. The corridors were as cold and rigid as the two guards who walked on either side of her were. She was taken into a room with just one chair in a spotlight, the rest of the room in darkness. She sat perfectly still when they made her sit. They had chained each hand to the chair arms.

A man walked slowly towards the light. "Natalie Skyan" he said in a cold voice, with a veneer of sweetness that was cloying. He stepped into the light. "If that is your name," he added. She looked up into his cold smile.

"We have many questions for you, which I'm sorry to hear your not answering." He was walking a circle around her. She stopped herself from following him with her eyes. He sighed and moved in front of her. "I know my… Predecessor didn't treat you well but," he stopped in front of her. "I want to help you. I want you to talk to me." He had been smiling but now he turned serious. "After all I understand, I can-" she laughed. Her laughter echoed off the walls. It was high and cold.

"You understand me?" she asked incredulously, her voice was harsh and papery. "You can't possibly understand me." She spoke with all the hatred and disdain she could gather.

"Oh but I do." He said silkily. "You're a Telepath, and the only person who can really understand a Telepath, is another Telepath, other Telepaths are the only ones you can trust." He smiled, he leaned over her, making her tilt her head back to look up at him. "So as you can see you can trust me." She shook her head.

"You can't understand me, and I do not trust you. Or any of your little jackbooted Hitler's." She leaned forwards. "I serve. _Serve_. Do you even know what that word means? It means you can beat me, rape me," her throat closed for a second, "but what you can't do is break me." She leaned further towards him. "You can't make me tell you what you want, you can't break through my mental barriers, and you can't make me think that what I am is not worth fighting for, worth dying for." She looked into his cold eyes. He stood.

"Well, your welcome to your opinion." He smiled. "But I doubt you've ever faced dying before, and you will tell us what we want to know to make us stop." His smile was gone. "But it doesn't have to be that way…" he offered.

"With my last breath I'll fight you." He leaned over the chair. His hands resting on her arms.

"And you'll lose." He said softly. She smiled, and pulled her knee sharply up between his legs. With a strangled cry he stumbled away from her, in obvious agony, he turned back towards her and as he did she raised a finger from the side of the chair and pointed it at him. He grasped at his throat.

"That's a telekinetic barrier stopping airflow through your windpipe." Tears slowly made their way down her face. He fell to his knees. "Touch me again and I will kill you." She said quietly and fiercely. She lowered her finger. He staggered to his feet. She remained still, staring straight ahead. As he staggered away, face pale the light switched off when the door closed behind him.

She sat for hours, she may have dozed, though she didn't remember doing so. Different thoughts flowed through her. She wondered if Marcus had gotten her message, or whether anyone was coming for her, or maybe this time he wouldn't come, whether this time when she could not help herself, she would have no help from others., but finally they came back. She looked up at Bester, he had several large men with him. Goons, she thought.

"Afraid?" she asked, a smile pulling at her cut lip. He smiled coldly.

"I'm afraid Miss Skyan that you will be taken out of my hands if we don't get some results… And taken to Earth." He stepped close and a whisper entered her mind. _'We want to help, no more pain, no more torture…'_ Her jaw hardened.

"Stop it!" She ordered. "Get out of my head before I make good my promise!" she yelled. His smile was like a snake. "I won't listen to you, I won't break…" she shook her head. "I was brought up by the Minbari Warrior Caste. They are the best torturers in the galaxy. Do you think I've never been whipped, d you think I am afraid?" He smiled.

"No, but I do think that you are alone." He clicked his fingers. The three of them left her, and she was for the moment alone. And she was sorry, when he was there she was focused, angry when he left her doubts returned.

Marcus sat subdued in one corner of the freighter's cargo hold. He sat alone staring at an invisible point in space. Stephen sat across from him, and next to Stephen was a large supply case of medicines, bandages and drugs, pain suppressors, antidotes for anything they might give her. Marcus shuddered at what she must be going through. She must be pushing through sleepers to get to him.

"Marcus?" asked Stephen. He looked up and saw Stephen's worried gaze. "Mmm" was his only reply. "Are you feeling okay." Marcus finally looked at him, a bitter humor lit his eyes.

"Oh yes Stephen I'm wonderful, so is Natasha tha-" he paused as something happened in Natasha's dream. He concentrated as a small whisper of an image floated through his head. The floor, dizzy, laughter, he was crying. He tried to pull away. He felt a hand on his arm. Stephen was calling his name over and over while he shook Marcus' arm.

"She's having a nightmare." Was all he said, Stephen's eyes lowered in comprehension, "Are they getting stronger?" Marcus nodded as he controlled his emotions, if he fell apart she wouldn't get out, he had to remind himself, he had to fight to bring her back, he couldn't fight this battle for her..

"Want to play 'I spy'?" asked Marcus.

"What?" replied Stephen. His expression similar to the 'your insane' expression that Natasha had a patent on somewhere.

"Come on, it'll be fun…" he said with an artful expression of artlessness. Stephen looked at him as though he was sure that Marcus was pulling the proverbial wool over his eyes but then so did anyone else when he said crazy things. "Come on Stephen… Please" he let a whine creep into his voice, it was working the images had disappeared.

"Alright…" said Stephen slowly.

"Me first!" said Marcus, summoning humor from somewhere.

"I spy with my little eye, something starting with B." He said with a slight smile, Stephen rolled his eyes.

"Boxes." He said with little enthusiasm. Marcus smiled  
"Right, I spy with my little eye, something starting with M." He grinned as he looked around, their were boxes and…  
"More boxes." Said Stephen   
"Two in a row." He said enthusiastically.   
"And that's when I shot him your honor." Said Stephen  
"I spy with my little eye, something starting with E." he grinned.  
"I give up..." said Stephen, now possibly annoyed, no a smile was pulling at the corner of his mouth.   
"Oh, come on." Said Marcus, teasing.  
"This better not be what..." warned Stephen. Marcus raised an eyebrow. Then both together.  
"Even more boxes." They smiled at each other.

Natasha woke slowly. Mixtures of laughter and the terrible night two nights before mingled in her. She felt her empty stomach rebel. She retched, her stomach emptying it's remaining contents, some acidic tasting fluid, onto the floor in front of her. She dropped her face between her knees, her eyes stung, no more tears would come, she ached all over, from the abuse and from sitting in the hard steel chair. And the clothing had stuck to her cuts and was stuck in place.

She shivered, cold wind blew over her as Bester entered, with him was a small PsiCop with short hair, more interesting was Bester's face, he looked… Angry. Angry with the woman beside him. The blonde PsiCop who had overseen her first few days of torture accompanied the woman. "Give her the Drugs Ms. Winters." ordered the woman.

"Talia Winters." A memory floated through her head of her first visit to Babylon 5, She had been very young. The first human Ranger, she was carrying a message for Delenn from Sinclair, she had spent part of her time being careful to go nowhere near Ms. Winters during her visit, just to be on the safe side. The Talia Winters she had seen at a distance had seemed a nice person. This … Creature was ruthless and heartless.

The woman smiled, her lips curving not nicely but cruellly as she jabbed the needle in. Needle and woman went flying. The other woman stepped in and slapped her. Hard. She let her head roll with the blow. Blood flowed into her mouth. She let it pool in her mouth and then with careful aim, she spat.

Blood and spit hit the PsiCops cheek. She seemed to grow angrier, though she did not wipe it away. She slapped with her right glove rather than the left. Her head cracked the other way. It was then that she realised that the right glove had tiny little steel points on it. Pinpricks of pain every time she was struck.

Bester had killed, but this torture was different. The beating and wipping and worst the raping. Telepaths usually went mad when raped. He had only seen a few studies as it had not occurred often and only to very low level Telepaths, he was surprised she was functioning. He guessed that if she lived, she would be partially catatonic, and very likely unable t have normal relations. And it was so much safer when it was a genetically matched pair having normal relations then a lab creation.

He watched the methodical beating of the girl and felt a twinge of disgust. The girl could have been salvaged… But soon she would be dead. What a waste of such amazing talent. She was easily the strongest, most controlled Telekinetic he'd seen, and she seemed to have a resistance to the Sleeper drugs that kept Telepaths from using their abilities as well.

It was a waste. The glove struck again and again until the gloves print even elicited pricks of blood. He let out a soundless sigh. This one was beyond him, this time he could not divert her too a farm for rogues. She finally slumped into insensibility, then they gave her drugs. He watched the needles and stood by while she screamed and screamed as she relived the rape of three nights before. But she still didn't break.

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	5. Everything I Do, I Do It For You

**A Different Kind of War:**

_Everything I do - I do it for you  
  
_

**Everything I do- I do it for you**

****

Bester entered his office on Mars for the first time in months, he was still angry over the 'interrogation' of the rogue the day before. Several silver framed photos sat on the desk. As he sat one caught his eye. A child sat on his knee, her arms around his neck, her smiling face lying against his chest.

The dark eyes looked out at him from that position with trust and love. Thick wide lips curved up at the corners. The image was happy. But today it sent chills down his spine. He picked up the photo a sinking sensation coming over him. The room seemed to spin as he looked at the child with the soft wild curls, the dark eyes.

He saw the interrogation room. The recognition and fear in the rogue's eyes. Dark eyes, fragile beauty, the wild curls… he slumped back and looked to another photo, two young children, a boy and a girl, both with blue eyes and dark hair, his carefully combed, hers wild and free, her large eyes alive and happy, his more serious but still young, and so innocent.

His head sank into his hands as a terrible fear gripped him. A memory floated through his mind.

_Serious dark eyes looked up at him. "Uncle Al?" asked his tiny niece, she wore a flower print dress in bright colours, her eyes were sad yet strong. "Would you protect me from anything?" she asked. He smiled reassuringly at her pretty face. Already her parents exotic good looks showed in her tiny face. "I would." He told her. She bit her bottom lip. "Even if you thought it was silly? Or wrong?" she asked. So serious for one so young. "Even if I was being … Bad?" she asked. He smiled and pulled her close, her flower print dress spread over his black PsiCop uniform. She refused to put her head down, she looked up at him. "From anything." He reassured her. She laid her head against his chest. He saw his sister raise her camera and take a photo. _

He raised his eyes to the photo and then to the papers on the side of the desk.

He stood and pushed them aside until he found an image. Her eyes were closed but it was her, without the bruising and cuts. Her skin soft and dark like her fathers. Half-running he left the room.

She rose from unconscious oblivion to sleep to consciousness quickly. She tried to open her eyes but the right one refused to open. She tried to see with only the left. The room blurred and weaved. Her head ached in time to the beat of her blood…

She tried to open her mouth slowly. Her cheeks were swollen, carefully she assessed her face. Her cheeks were swollen –probably a lovely shade of violet- her jaw was stiff and possibly dislocated, her lips seemed impossibly sore and swollen. As for the rest of her. They'd woken her and used an electro jabber on low setting on her chest and stomach. Her ribs seemed to have worsened sending spikes of pain up her left side.

Her eyes had started to work properly, and her head hurt a little less by the time the door opened. Al Bester walked in. He had a strange expression on and carried an old paper envelope. She smiled slightly, grimly, he'd figured it out. He lifted a photo in front of her face, a dark haired woman with the same straight nose and messy dark curls as she had looked back at her. The eyes were blue though, and she had Bester's eyes and pale skin. The familiarity was visible in the woman's features.

Another picture appeared, a handsome man with high cheek bones, and generally dashing dark good looks. Familiar dark eyes stared back at her, the same jaw and eyes, so familiar. She looked up at Bester. He stared down at her. A third photo was put in front of the other two. A young girl who seemed a synthesis of the other two photos sat beside Bester. She had a flowery dress on and her hair curled wildly around her child's face.

Bester dropped the pictures in her lap and walked away from her. He stood on the edge of the circle of light around her. "My parents were Corps. My mother was just like yours, the hair and eyes, the wildness, the beauty. She was a commercial telepath. My father was an instructor." He was taking his gloves of as he spoke. "They actually liked each other before they were married. They had me first. I was talented from the moment I was born." His head lowered, he was playing with his gloves, folding them… "Then my mother fell pregnant again. This time the child wasn't even a latent." He turned towards her. "But what she lacked in Psi ability she more than made up for in personality and looks.

"She was the light in any room, a warm breeze on a cold day…" he walked towards her. "And curious, she always wanted to know _why_." He smiled. "But for all her sweet personality, all her seeming fragility, she was a strong person. She rejected any idea anyone had of telling her what to do…" then she met your father. A first year Archaeology student from St Petersburg. Soon she was his equal. They loved each other and their work together was amazing to watch." He looked at the photos on her lap. "Then they had you. You were definitely going to develop talent, or so we thought. Your DNA… All the tests said you were a P10 to 12 for sure, except the actual practical tests." He paused and looked at her, tracing the familiar yet different face.

"You were your mother though even more exotic and beautiful." He knelt in front of her and pulled out another photo. A black and white photo of mother and daughter, he paused for a minute. "Then you disappeared. An explosion said the experts." He gripped her hands. "But if the ship exploded on take-off why are you still alive?" her hands were being squeezed. "How did you escape, what happened on Beta 11?" he asked. She looked at him, his eyes showed a desperate need, they betrayed his feelings. She took a deep breath.

"They woke something on that world." She looked into his eyes, her words were slurred by her swollen face. "Shadows. They found a Shadow ship." He pulled back. Her open eye looked up at him. Then past him as she looked back into the past.

"Shadows?" he asked. She nodded.

"We were there for three years uncle. And they found that ship. Something they did most have woken it. Because it called into my mind. That's the first time I used my Telepathic abilities." She looked up at him. "Two weeks later I was playing in a field when another Shadow ship came. It destroyed out camp." She shivered. I could hear it, screaming in my head… And theirs, my parents. The others, all of them… screaming." She shivered.

"The Minbari found me a few weeks later. I was half mad and half starved. They took me in… They looked after me…" she looked up at him. "You didn't keep your promise, you were supposed to protect me… Uncle Al." he looked up into her battered face. He shivered. He stood.

"Tell me when your rescuers arrive." He told her shortly. As he walked away.

"What rescuers?" she asked tilting her head to look at him, she had felt Marcus' approach but how did he know... He turned back towards her.

"I know Sheridan; they'll be coming for you." He looked back at her. "I'll stall Thirteen, she won't touch you again" he paused just before the door. "I'm sorry 'Tasha" he said so softly she wasn't sure he'd said it. And this time when he left she no longer felt safe, no longer did she feel anything, her emotions seemed to have drained away, leaving her truly alone. And this time as she slept she did not dream.

What do you think??? Feedback people, Feedback.


	6. There's nowhere, unless you're there

**A Different Kind of War**

There's no love - like your love  
And no other - could give more love  
There's nowhere - unless you're there  
All the time - all the way

**There's Nowhere Unless you're there…**

Marcus sighed and looked down at the Mealbar. He sniffed at it and made a face. Stephen was doing something similar. Marcus put down his Mealbar.

"I'm going to have a look around." He said softly. He was walking through the cargo bay when he smelt something. A  person. He smelt sweat, dirty clothes and an odd soap smell.

Stephen took a bite of the Mealbar and grimaced. It tasted like regurgitated spaghetti, rubbery and foul. He swallowed it and prepared himself to take another bite when He heard a scuffle.

Jumping up he ran around the side of the boxes to find Marcus holding a large man with a scraggly beard in a necklock.

"It would appear we have a spy on our hands, Stephen." Said Marcus. Stephen stepped closer.

"How did you get in here?" he asked the man who, wisely, didn't struggle with Marcus.

"Through the access hatch." the man replied.

"That hatch was locked!" said Marcus. "I know, I checked it." The man was silent a moment.

"My Brother helped me – he's the captain – he let me in." Stephen met Marcus's eyes they were suspicious.

"Why didn't he tell us then?" asked Marcus.

"Probably forgot about me, it happens a lot. I'm easily forgettable." The man added

Marcus waited a moment and then released him. He rubbed at his neck a moment. Then he extended a hand to Stephen "John Demeter, but most people call me Captain Jack" he said as he shook Stephen's hand. At a warning glance from Marcus Stephen just said "Stephen." He replied.

"I'm Marcus." Said Marcus as John turned towards him.

"And what are you boys doing here?" he asked jovially.

"Very little." Said Marcus. He looked from one to the other.

"well," he said walking towards a small pack, "I was about to have dinner, join me?" he asked as he opened a pack of InstaEats. Stephen's mouth watered, but Marcus spoke before Stephen could accept.

"No thanks, we have our own." Stephen swallowed at the water in his mouth. "And uh, don't come into our area of the Cargobay, Hate for anything unpleasant to happen to you," he paused a moment

"Believe me I'd hate it more," replied Captain Jack.

"Come on Stephen." He said moving away slowly. Stephen followed him, reluctantly back to the Mealbars.

When they were back in their area Stephen turned to Marcus and frowned, "Couldn't we be friendly. It's would jus-'

"Just what Stephen?" Marcus interrupted angrily. "It would 'just' be risking the mission, It would 'just' be risking our lives and ensuring the Natasha dies about the worst death imaginable!" he said in a low angry voice. "We aren't to speak to anyone but the contact, remember?" said Marcus, staring intently at Stephen. After a moment Stephen looked away. They sat and began eating their Mealbars. "We have to wait until we hear the pass phrase" said Marcus softly, Stephen was about to respond when a song came from where 'Captain Jack' was.

I've always thought that I would love to live by the sea, to travel the

world alone and live more simply, I have no idea what's happened to that dream, 'cause there's really nothing left here to stop me, it's just a thought, only a thought."   
        Marcus looked at Stephen. Stephen raised an eyebrow, "You spoke?" he said. Marcus gave him a disgusted look as they stood to go and speak with Captain Jack.

Natasha sat, waiting; it had been a few hours since Bester had come. The door opened and a young man with a PsiCorp badge, gloves and an elegant suit on came in. with him was a slender woman in equally formal clothes. The young man seemed distressed when he saw her appearance. He was carrying a tray, as was the woman. They set them down on either side of her.

The man opened a bottle and soaked a small cloth with what smelled like medicine. He reached out to touch her face. She flinched back, her eyes wide. A rational part of her mind told her he was trying to help… But the irrational part refused to be touched, not even if she had to die to stop it…

The woman took the cloth from him and knelt in front of her. She carefully dabbed at Natasha's face. Natasha had to clench every muscle to stop her self screaming and pulling away, though it hurt to clench her abused body. Carefully they treated her face. And after the man removed the chains from her hands, and turned away, The woman helped her stand. And carefully, pulled the back of the grey shirt up. She let out a half scream as the woman pulled the cloth from the healing cuts.

Gentle hands –repulsive- touched her skin. Burning fire erupted where the hands went, followed by the cooling sensation of Antibiotics doing their job. Next they gave her an injection. She pulled away, but the woman sent a small tendril towards her, a feeling. Compassion.

The needle sunk into the bruised juncture on her arm where they had put all the others. A momentary pain, followed a few minutes later by soothing anaesthetic flowing throughout her damaged body. The man had left at some stage and returned with a tray of food and an un-foldable bed. They helped her drink the thick broth they had brought her and then the woman help her lie down, then the woman put a healing patch over her damaged eye.

The warmth from a blanket they had tucked around her, the food and the treatment mad her so sleepy. She drifted away to sleep.


	7. NOTE

THIS IS A NOTE ON WHAT HAPPENS WHEN STEPHEN AND MARCUS ARRIVE ON MARS, FOR  
INFORMATION GOT TO THIS ADDRESS FR A SYNOPSIS (AND IF YOU DON'T ALREADY  
KNOW THIS SITE I REALLY RECOMMEND IT)  
  
  
  
YOU WILL HAVE TO CUT AND PASTE THE ABOVE LINK. ( AND I MAY WRITE A LINKING  
CHAPTER SOMETIME... 


	8. Don't tell me it's not worth trying for

**A Different Kind of War:  
**

* * *

_Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for  
  
I can't help it there's nothin' I want more  
  
I would fight for you - I'd lie for you  
  
Walk the wire for you - Ya I'd die for you_

* * *

**Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for...  
**

* * *

Al Bester entered her room. She looked up at him from her handstand. Carefully she lowered herself, facing away from him. She had begun to shake with the effort anyway. She had been interrogated for the last few days, but no torture, no drugs, just the endless mind games. She shivered. "They're here." He nodded and left. She stood perfectly still a minute before heading for the bed. Under the pillows was her disguise, a black uniform. She felt a whisper in her mind, her mothers words, _"So strong my little one, so strong, too strong my love, strong enough to be like him, a heart of lead inside a body with no soul…" _With a deep breath she stripped her prisoner's clothing and pulled on the uniform.

It was a slow process, finally she took the PsiCorp pin and placed it on her chest. She shivered in the black uniform, the gloves came on next and then the PPG was strapped on. She swallowed as she shifted uncomfortably in the soft uniform. It was restricting, like a jail around her skin.. She lifted a mirror and examined her face. Her right eye was still puffy and blood shot, and her cheeks were swollen and yellowish. Carefully she put on make-up thick enough to hide the marks onto her face and a contact to hide her bloodshot eye. She looked back in the mirror. A shudder passed through her, she had seen this image in her mothers head, and the revulsion her mother had felt at it had always stayed with her.

He was there a moment later. He saw the tear trailing down her cheek as she turned to him. She reached up to wipe it away and stopped at the sight of her black leather gloves. Quickly she wiped it away. Her sadness and disgust for the disguise she could see making his jaw tighten.

"Shall we?" he asked when she had composed herself. She nodded. They walked down the clinically clean corridors of the PsiCorp building, she didn't receive one curious look or even a stray thought. "You could still change your mind." He said softly. She looked over at him. He met her derisive glance and looked away.

"Had to try." He offered.

"Don't." she replied shortly, concentrating on keeping upright, she was starting to feel dizzy and her back, ribs and legs were paining from her beating of a few days before.

They had left the building and entered the underground regions. Once there she led him to where she had put her ranger Uniform. Carefully and slowly she changed. He handed her the Ranger pin. She smiled as she put it back on her chest.

They headed through the tunnels in the direction that Marcus was. She stumbled. He went to catch her put she hissed and pulled away. She extended her pike and using it she walked on.

After another half hour they reached the junction she had seen in Marcus' mind. She stood still a moment. He was near. Very near.

"This is where you leave me." Bester looked at her. He opened his mouth. "Don't. Just go" she told him wearily. "Go!" she ordered when he hesitated. She knew she was too weak to stand without help for much longer. As he turned away, Marcus stepped into the corridor. His face showed his relief as he closed the distance between them with long strides.

"Don't." she held out a hand, palm up to keep him from hugging her. He slowed and stopped sadness etched nto his tired features. "Please…" she added weakly. She swayed. She felt it rising up. A scream echoed through her mind. A terrible shriek. "Shadows." She whispered as darkness closed around her mind. She swayed and this time fell. Fell into the dark hiding place in her mind, behind the walls no one could breach.

* * *

Marcus watched Franklin tending her. Marcus felt uncomfortable when Stephen ran his fingers over the cuts on her back. They were then bandaged. Marcus tried not to dwell on the fact that her ribs thrust through her skin, she was as skinny as a starved old dog.

Stephen finished and ran a hand over her hair gently, suddenly her eyes were open and Stephen was clutching his head. A soft scream coming from his open mouth. He stumbled away as she backed away. Suddenly he stumbled, falling to his knees.

She was backing away from him. Then suddenly her eyes lost their crazed look and she was moving to him. She cradled his face with her palms and whispered apologies.

* * *

Stephen felt the sudden pain and hate hit him like a wall. He tried to scream, tried to get away, but he couldn't sem to move, he was held still by a presence running through his head. His every nerve seemed on fire with pain. Then as suddenly as it had come the pain was gone. Leaving him gasping fro breath, as he tried to see in the suddenly too dark room.

Cool hand cradled his face and words whispered something he couldn't make out. Arms folded around him, a face appeared, Dark eyes bored into his. _I'm so sorry Stephen_ he felt the words as though they were his own thoughts. He jerked back. His nerves no longer burnt, pain no longer ran through him instead a soft warmth suffused him, as memories of his mother holding him as a child, and the rare times his father had expressed his pride, or the times his sisters would hug him layed through his head, his heart rate returned to normal. And all he could do was drown in enormous brown eyes.

* * *

He watched her sit in the corner. Her eyes shut her hands formng a minbari prayer shape, thumbs together, fingers overlaying each other. Her face was still bruised. She looked up. He smiled reassuringly at her. The nervous smile he got in return was better than the psichic attack of the night before.

Number one entered the room and walked towards Stephen, skirting the place where Natasha was sitting by a huge distance.

"Did get your message out?" she asked, pointedly ignoring the Telepath.

"Yes, thank you, it went fine." He said, out of the corner of his eye he saw Natasha slide up the wall.

"Number one," she said, her voice still grating from too little too drink for so long. The resistance leader slowly pivoted to lok at the girl. "There has been an explosion, her eyes fluttered, The Black Sun nightclub. Her eyes opened wide "Twenty civilians were killed in the attack!" Number one cursed as she ran to the door. Natasha met his eyes. She slid back down the wall.

"Lots of injured..." the words were soft. Stephen felt the tug of his medical training his oath to save lives pull at him. He sighed. She smiled bitterly.

* * *

"I want to thank you all for coming, I know it was dangerous to get here with the Martial law." The resistance leaders were silent, most of them staring at Natasha, their faces openly hostile, several of them already had their hands on their guns. A sardonic smile touched her bruised face.

"She's not a circus animal you know." Said Marcus. "She's in a lot of pain and doesn't need the people she came here to help staring at her!" he said angrily. Stephen sent Marcus a warning look.

"And she's not the point anyway, B5 wants to talk, now Captain Sheridan has sent us to-" Stephen was interrupted by Phillippe.

"Why should we listen to anything an earther has to say!" he called, there were murmurs of agreement.

"Sheridan put down the food riots after the war! A lot of people here haven't forgotten that." Said number one.

"Now he needs your support, he-" Stephen was interrupted again.

"We haven't seen much support coming from Babylon 5 recently." She said diplomatically.

"Sorry, involved in a little war that threatened to wipe out all life in this sector." Said Marcus sarcastically.

"And before you think it's got nothing to do with you," said Natasha. "The PsiCorps and EarthGov were both involved with the Shadows, and the creature that Marcus killed that was infesting one of your people when he arrived seems to show that they have been responsible for some of the things happening here." They were watching her intently and silently now, though their eyes were still distrustful.

"Now I have been on mars since January, and I have sensed a growing presence of Shadow tech and PsiCorp. Their going to find all of you, and within a few months Mars will be retaken and you will all be dead." Her words were pointed and sharp, even more so with the reminder of her Telepath abilities.

"Now," Stephen said picking up where she had left off. "Captain Sheridan wants to help you, but he needs your support, and he needs to know that you'll act when the time comes, he needs to know he can rely on you." He said.

"And what do we get?" asked Philippe. There were agreeing murmurs.

"Freedom, independence." Said Natasha, they looked to her. "But you have to stop bombing Civilian targets," she added firmly, there was general grumbling and shaking of heads. "You're driving away potential supporters and allowing EarthGov to paint you as evil, rather than as freedom fighters." She added. "You need to gather support, if you are to be the future leaders of Mars you have to show you are worthy of that position." There were catcalls at her words. She stood up. One hand slashed and silence returned.

"You think I don't know what your feeling? My parents took me to outlying colonies under oppressive Earth rule, I lived three years on Proxima 3, and my parents died to keep me away from the PsiCorp." She waved at Marcus. "He was raised on Arisia colony, which was sucked dry by Earth taxes."

"And strip mined by Earth Corporations." Added Marcus. She nodded.

"And I have just spent nearly two weeks in a PsiCorp prison cell." She added. "We have a saying were I come form. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend'" she smiled "And the Minbari have a saying." She said. "Anari kel tonah." She said softly. "Free thyself of fear" she translated. "You have to stop being afraid that your going to lose, if you say you will have victory, you will have victory." She smiled.

"And why will that change anything?" asked Philippe.

"It will, because if you know you can win you will fight harder. She looked from face to face.

"Mars will be free, if Sheridan says it will be." She stepped close to them and began to walk in front of the resistance fighters. "Sheridan has made a promise and he will keep it, but for us to help you win your freedom, we have to have your help."

"And we are supposed to believe one man saying this?" asked number two skeptically.

"Yes! If it's the right man," said Marcus, Phillipe snorted.

"And what if I say I fly to New York?" he said derisively, his arms making flapping motions. Stephen smiled.

"In your case, I'd say you were nuts, but if Sheridan said it I'd ask him to stop by on the Westside and pick me up some Bagels!" Number one stepped forwards.

"Anything else?" she asked. Marcus stepped forwards.

"Only one thing, if you agree," he glanced at Natasha. "Natasha will give you some lessons in blocking scans." She smiled sadly.

"I'll give them even if you don't. Perhaps that way you'll at least have a chance on your own..."


	9. I would Fight for you

**A Different Kind of War...**  


* * *

A/N: Hey, haven't updated in a while. I had some real problems writing this episode becaus it features Stephen Franklin prominently, and that felt wrong after Richards's death. I know your all as saddened and agrievved to hear about his truly untimely death as I was. I considered changing the plot of this episode but to honour him I have decided to returne to the original plot for this chapter. Here it is in all it's finished glory.

* * *

> > **Dedication: **
>>
>>> > **_For Richard Biggs, a great actor, a funny guy and a wonderful person, may you rest in peace. And remember so long as Babylon 5 survives he survives, through his beautiful acting. We will not forget you..._**

* * *

_I would fight for you - I'd lie for you  
Walk the wire for you - Ya I'd die for you

* * *

_

**I would fight for you…

* * *

**

"Clear your mind." She told him, her dark eyes boring into his. _'focus'_. He nodded slightly. "Picture a wall inside your head." She told him, her voice soft and melodious. '_Remember, your focus will determine your reality'_. He snorted softly. "Do not laugh." She told him sternly. He nodded. She smiled. "Now imagine a tall wall, a wall of rock. It is solid. He could see it in his mind. Tall and impregnable.

"Now," she said. She felt the presence in her mind retreating. "bring something to mind, a memory, something you don't want me too see." She told him softly. He reached into his memory… He dragged out the recent memory of finding himself.

_"Very stupid."_  
_"Yeah. It was that, wasn't it. Always trying to be the hero. Never stopping to think first. Now, look where it got you."  
"I must be going into shock."  
"You said you had to keep walking until you met yourself. Well, here I am. So, if we are gonna talk, let's talk, because I don't think you have a lot of time."_

"Have you got it?" he nodded, it was hard to keep the thought bottled up and hold the wall in place. "Alright. This time build another wall. Don't just bottle up the thoughts and feelings but actually build another wall around these specific thoughts or memories. He nodded, sweat had broken out on his forehead. He could feel her pressing in on him. "ready?' he nodded again. Sudden pain cramped behind his eyes. Like hot needles were being plunged into them. All he could see were her eyes. Huge, dark, commanding.

"Show me." She ordered.

_'Show me.'_

_'Show me.'_

_'Show me…'_

He was falling, it was like a well, a well of pain and fear. Suddenly he saw himself in the room in Downbelow, he heard the words he had had spoken to him those months before.

_"You know what your problem is? All your life you've run away from everything. Home didn't work out, wouldn't talk to your father, so you just .. walked away. You didn't have the patience for a long internship back home, so you just ran out and started hitch-hiking on starships. You didn't want to turn over your precious notes on Minbari biology during the war, so you just burned them instead and walked away again. You used work to run away from your personal life and stims to run away from your work. And right now, you are running away from everything. Don't you die on me yet. I'm not through with you. You finally had it all, didn't you? You had a good job, people who cared about you and you messed it up! 'I have to leave before they fire me. I have to go find myself.' What a bunch of mealy-mouthed self-indulgent foundationist crap! Take responsibility for your actions, for crying out loud. You go in there and you fight for what matters to you, don't just walk away because it's easier. What did you say? Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. You are too busy dying, aren't you? I guess that's a bit more important to you right now. Well, fine, you do what you want, because you and I, we parted ways a long time ago. So just go ahead and die, because I really don't care anymore…get up off the damn floor. I don't care how much it hurts. Don't you go passing out on me, because that's just another kind of running away. Now, you take the reponsibility. Show me that you want it. Get up off the damn floor. That's it. Come on. Come on. Get up on your own two feet and stand up, you stand up!"… _

The words faded away. He was looking at something, the ceiling he realised. Something moved into view, for a moment he didn't remember who it was, and then he saw her eyes. A spike of irrational fear flooded him.

"Sorry." She said softly, her gentle hands helping him sit up in the cramped room they were using to try and find if he could block her scans for any length of time.

"oww." He muttered, gingerly touching his head. He could feel the pain on the back of his head.

"I can imagine." She smiled ruefully. Sitting back she stared at him. "you really didn't want me to see that did you?" she asked with a frown. He swallowed the taste of bile in his mouth and nodded.

"Never really want to tell anyone." He said softly. She frowned.

"Maybe that's your new way of running away…" she suggested. He looked up at her.

"No, not really. It's just… I dunno-"

"So personal you don't know how you'd deal with someone else knowing." She smiled slightly, bitterly. "I understand that." She looked towards the doors. "Sometimes though, sometimes it can help when your friends help you." He looked up at her.

"I didn't know we'd reached friend status.." he joked. She smiled.

"I know your darkest secret, you know most of mine." She shrugged. The silence seemed to ring in the air.

"Let's take a break.

Stephen glanced over at her as they sat in the small cramped room, it no longer spun if he moved his head too quickly and the pain in the back and right side of his head was fading. She had her dark eyes closed, the first thing he noticed was that her dark eyes were brushing her cheeks. He noted the tiny pinprick cuts on the still slightly yellow tinged skin of her cheeks. Her eyes opened and met his.

"What was it? It was a glove, with tiny little sharp bits of metal in the leather." She said with a sardonic smile. He frowned.

"Did you scan me?" he asked, slightly indignant. She closed her eyes again. "No. You're broadcasting. At this range, and with my head in it's current state I doubt I could block a latent." She sighed and shifted. She winced as she did so. He felt an echoing twinge of guilt. She still had open wounds. Almost as though she did not have the heart to heal.

That added to the fact that anytime he had to touch her he could feel the way her muscles tightened. He could in fact see them under her dark skin, they were taught as though at any moment she might have to defend herself.

"Well I might." She whispered. He glared at her.

"Would you stop that?" he growled irritably. "It's bad enough I have to spend large amounts of time with Marcus without you reading my mind every five seconds!" he exclaimed harshly. She opened her eyes. One brow was lifted elegantly at him. A mocking smile graced her lips. He looked at her for a second before a small growl issued from his throat. He threw his hands up into the air. He considered apologising. He went to open his mouth-

"I accept your apology." She said with a serious expression, before once again closing her eyes. This time though her mouth still held the traces of a mocking smile.

"You're as impossible as he is!" he told her exasperatedly. She cracked one eye open slightly.

"Thank you. That's a real compliment." She smiled at him. He glanced away before being drawn back to the enormous smile she was wearing, her one eye still watching him. He looked away again and found himself glancing back. She was still watching him. Resolutely he turned his attention to studying the wall. It was a very interesting wall. With all sorts of different marks on it… A scratch. He glanced sideways. The damned eye was still watching him.

"What do you want?" he finally exploded.

"Who me?" she gave him an innocent wide eyed look. He growled and turned back to his examination of the wall. Marcus came in.

"Well you two seem to be getting along splendidly." He said regarding the pair of them.

As they stood they gave him death glares. He grinned as they passed him.

"What news from the bomb site?" asked Stephen worriedly. As Marcus was about to respond he was interrupted.

""More importantly, how are the arrangements to get us off this rock once they've-" she jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "-made their decision." As she said it her head tilted sideways. She frowned, something on the edge of her thoughts... Then her eyes widened. She whipped her head up to look at the roof.

"What-" began Marcus, when they were lifted off the floor. "GET DOWN!" she screamed, throwing herself after them, even as she used her telekinesis to throw them like rag dolls. Behind her the room dissolved in a shower of fire and metal.

Stephen found himself on the ground he pushed himself upright and paused. A group of soldiers were dropping through the hole. Guns trained on those in the room. After a moment of silence one of them issued an order.

"Beta squad! Grab any weapons they have, and then get the two of them out of here!" he ordered. "Gamma squad continue on Target!" Stephen looked at Marcus who was standing, hands raised, apparently at ease. A ladder had been lowered into the room and two Psi Cops descended the ramp. They turned and surveyed the room clinically. Stephen felt the breath leave his body in a gasp as one of the soldier's hauled him to his feet. The first of the two was medium sized dark skinned man with a buzz cut, the second had short blonde hair and an icy expression.

"Talia!" he choked, coughing on the smoke in the air. The woman smiled slightly at him.

"Ah hello Stephen. I thought you might be here." She smiled as she approached him.

She quieted her mind, Blocking out every emotion in the room, a difficult task because of the amount of tension that hung in the air like a choking gas, blinding her Psi senses. Fortunately it was also blinding the others too her presence. She watched as the blonde who had once been Talia Winters approached Stephen, His eyes were alight with something. He pulled in the guards grip.

"Get out of my head!" he said as his eyes focused fiercly on Talia.

"Where is she?" asked the blonde, her icy voice cracking slightly. She felt the pressure the woman was applying on Stephen, she waited till the other joined her. They both had their hands raised as Stephen struggled in the soldier's arms.

She dropped to the floor, using her telekinesis to cushion her landing, even as she released her telekinetic bonds to the walls and ceilings. She landed without a noise denn'bok extending between two soldiers heads. They were shoved apart and fell with cries. She leant down into a fighting crouch.

"She's right here." she told them as she opened her mind. As they turned she threw her head back and screamed. And screamed as those around her clutched their heads and fell to their knees.


End file.
